


Bloodlust

by Love_andbalance



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Character Turned Into Vampire, Dark Reylo, Dubious Consent, F/M, Human/Vampire Relationship, Light Bondage, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, because she is under mind control, surrender to the dark, unhappily ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_andbalance/pseuds/Love_andbalance
Summary: Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!- Bram Stoker
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 26
Kudos: 106





	1. Bitten and Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the world no longer needs heroes. What it needs is a monster- Dracula Untold

His name had once been Ben Solo.

As a young prince, he had been impulsive, as most young princes are. No one had blamed him for that, and they often smiled at his reckless, boyish charm.

Beneath that, though, in the secret places of his heart, he was more than impulsive. He was dark and restless and _hungry_ for more than he had been given in his life, though he had been given so much.

As he grew, so did the whispers and the looks of concern. With them grew the darkness inside him. They didn’t trust him, he knew, and it enraged him further. A cycle of loss and pain was created, and it drew a line between him and the people who loved him most.

He carried bitterness and tasted the foulness of it on his tongue as he spit words of anger and made his mother cry.

She had sent him to his uncle, a monk living in isolation far away from the only home Ben had ever known. His father had been too weak to stop her despite his love for his only son. Ben had learned to hate them both as the isolation and the rejection crept under his skin and fed the monstrous emotions inside him.

Ben watched with broken trust as Luke, too, began to question if he was worthy of love.

Then Snoke came to his uncle’s home. He was a wealthy man in golden robes claiming to seek spiritual enlightenment. What he found was a conflicted young man with a vulnerable heart who had been all to eager to hear his words of reassurance and praise.

Snoke had not turned from him in fear or disgust when he realized the darkness in the young prince’s heart, for his real goal was to find someone who could be turned and thrive in the darkness of the night.

Ben had found peace and solace in Snoke’s acceptance and had given himself wholly to Snoke’s teachings. He did not yet understand the true cost, but he was willing to give anything Snoke asked of him in exchange for the feeling of belonging.

By the time Luke realized the extent of Snoke’s treachery, it was too late.

For Snoke was not truly a man, nor was he truly alive. He had sunk his teeth deeply into Ben’s neck, fed from him until the boy had been on the brink of death, before inflicting a savage wound on his own wrist and bringing the pouring blood to Ben’s lips.

Ben had drunk because to do otherwise was to die, but also because it fed the hunger inside him for the first time in his life. Here was the thing that he had always thought was missing. Power, strength, invincibility. 

He didn’t stop drinking when the change began and pain ran like fire through his veins, or when his heart stopped and the breath froze in his chest.

He wanted everything, all of it, and only when Snoke finally struck him, forcing him to let go, did he cease taking.

Snoke had looked him then with something that looked like awe with just a tinge of regret. He had realized finally the depth of the darkness in the thing he had made, and now, finally, Ben had seen fear and revulsion in even the eyes of his maker.

Still Snoke had not been as bad as the family he had born into, for Snoke had not abandoned him or tried to put a stake through his heart, which had been the last of Luke’s many mistakes concerning his nephew.

Snoke had taken him and molded him, taught him to walk confidently in the darkness and given him a new name.

And now he was no longer Ben Solo, a troubled prince with sliver of darkness in his heart. He was Kylo Ren, a lord of the night with nothing but darkness left in his soul.

It suited him, he knew, far better than that other life ever had.

Centuries had passed since the night of his rebirth. Empires had risen and they had fallen in an endless cycle that held little interest for him.

He had seen a great deal of what the world had to offer in that time, but it changed often enough to keep things from getting too boring.

When he tired of one place, or the people there lost the novelty of their flavor, he simply moved on. A process that had become at once easier and harder as the technology of man had advanced.

He had amassed enough wealth over his long life to keep ahead of any issues of paperwork or identity. People would provide anything for the right price and the privilege of living another day.

His only complaint, if he had to chose one, was that this life was an isolated one. He had long since gotten rid of Snoke, gratitude staying his hand for only the first two hundred years or so before annoyance had overtaken it and he had left his maker in a heap with the look of surprise still etched into his face.

Isolation was a small price to pay for centuries of life, all lived with health, wealth, power and youth. He had learned to ignore it.

Until the day she came.


	2. Glimmer of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and how dear to his heart and eye the morning can be. -Bram Stoker

Rey let her suitcase fall from her weary fingers and land with a loud thump on the dirty wooden floor. She regretted it immediately when the puff of dust she had stirred sent her into a sneezing fit.

It wasn’t the best welcome that her new home could have given her, but she had traveled too far and given up too much to turn back now. A bit of dust wouldn’t scare her away so easily.

Looking around at the rest of the house, though, was enough to seriously challenge her resolve, even after the long trip from London and with precious little money left in her pocket.

It was two stories of rickety flooring, peeling wallpaper, and cracked windows covered in grime. It was a surprise and a horribly disappointing setback.

She had expected the house to be in decent shape. Most of the homes in the country had escaped the worst of the bombing during the war, after all, but it seemed her grandfather had not kept up on maintenance before his death two months ago.

Somehow it hadn’t entered her mind that the man who had so deeply neglected his own son and his granddaughter would have also neglected to maintain his property.

Rey sat on a dusty chair in the living room and put her head in her hands. She had given up everything in London and fled to collect this house, her only inheritance, because she had to get away from the wreckage of the city and the terrible memories of war that had surrounded her life there. She had used nearly all of her money to get here and now she had nothing left to even begin to pay for the many repairs that the house obviously needed.

Night had fallen while she wandered the abandoned rooms, so it was far too late now to even walk back to town and hope that a cheap room would be available.

Well, there was no point in being upset about it now, she thought, standing up and shaking the dust from her skirt. She walked to the front door, grabbed her suitcase from where she had dropped it, and hauled it up the staircase to the first room on the right.

The bed was small and covered in a threadbare, dusty blanket, but it was better than nothing. She set the suitcase at the foot of the bed and stripped the blanket from the bed, giving a hard shake, hoping to clear it of the worst of the dust and hidden spiders before she laid down.

A cloud of dirt filled the room and she began to sneeze again, one after another in a horrible unending fit that forced her to the nearest window, praying desperately that it would open when she tugged on the ancient wood.

It edged up with a creak and she heaved on it with all her might until she had worked it open enough to provide fresh, dust free air.

She stood at the window, sucking in the cold air from outside and staring off into the trees. There was glimmer of light there, far enough away to just be visible. Probably the home of her nearest neighbor.

And it settled over her then, how alone she really was in this house. Everyone in London lived crammed in together and even after her parents had been killed in a late-night bombing raid, she had felt terribly lonely but never truly alone. Seeing that one light, and realizing how far way the nearest living person really was, made her feel frighteningly alone. She was vulnerable and exposed.

She thought she saw something move, a quick flash at base of the trees that was somehow even blacker than the surrounding darkness.

She leaned in, squinting hard at the spot where it had been, but there was nothing. She chuckled a bit, sure that her imagination had run away with her, but she closed the window and drew the curtains just in case.

***

Kylo watched the young woman through the window as she pulled the curtains closed in an attempt to shut out what lurked in the night. She had seen him for a moment, he was sure of it.

He hadn't been able to suppress a smile when she had frozen and leaned in to stare at the spot where he had been standing. She had keen eyes. It had been ages since he had been seen when he was trying not to be.

The girl was a pleasant surprise. No one besides Mr. Johnson had lived in his neighbor’s run-down old house for the five years Kylo had been here and the old man had died months ago.

No one had come to claim the house and Kylo had begun to assume that his heirs intended to let the place go to rot. He sneered at the sagging porch steps and peeling paint. He certainly would have.

Yet here she was.

She must have come in on the evening train because his first impression upon waking had been of her glorious, intoxicating scent wafting on the breeze.

It was lucky for both of him that he had recently fed, because he tried not to pursue his meals so close to his own home, however temporary they may be. Drawing attention to himself was unwise, even in these less superstitious times.

Hardly anyone took vampire accusations seriously these days, but they still considered murder a serious crime regardless of its means or motives.

Still, there was something about her. A uniqueness about her scent and the way the sight of her face framed in the light of the window had made him feel. Simultaneously hungry and undeniably aroused, but also possessive.

It stirred something inside him that had been long dormant. Curiosity, interest, a desire for knowledge that ran deeper than the need for food or physical release.

He watched as the light in the window went out and sighed. He would come back tomorrow night. Perhaps he could think of an excuse that would get the girl to let him inside. Then he could decide what to do with her.

***

Rey jumped in surprise when she heard a knock on the front door. The old house had a genuine door knocker, so the sound of the heavy metal striking on old wood echoed loudly all the way up the stairs.

She glanced out the nearest window, the same one she had looked out of the previous night but now scrubbed as free of grime as she could get it, and frowned.

She was wasn’t expecting anyone, she didn’t even know anyone, and the sun had just slipped below the horizon and plunged her into a rapidly deepening darkness.

The feeling of isolation and vulnerability that overcome her last night had kept her tossing restlessly in her bed until the early morning light had crept across the floor to where she lay pretending to sleep, but it had seemed silly when the sun was up and the birds were chirping in the trees.

The countryside seemed so peaceful and welcoming during the day that she had decided it must have been the exhaustion of the journey causing her mind to play tricks on her. She had set to work sweeping floors and scrubbing windows and by the time evening had come she had nearly forgotten her trepidation in the glow of satisfaction that the house now seemed nearly livable, if not exactly welcoming.

But now, facing down another night and the presence of a stranger at her door, all of those fears came rushing back in full force. She thought about not answering. She could pretend even to herself that she hadn’t heard the sound of the knock.

But then it came again, louder and more persistent.

She sighed, using the back of her hand to push a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, and started for the stairs. “I’m coming!” she called. “One moment, please!”

It took a more than a moment for her to descend the long staircase and cross the large foyer, now blissfully dust free, but when she grabbed the handle and yanked the door open her mystery guest was still waiting on the porch.

Her first thought was that he was incredibly handsome. A quick glance and she took in his appearance. The low light cast through the open door revealed long, dark hair that curled gently as it cascaded down to his shoulders, pale skin with a scattering a moles and freckles, and soft eyes. The color was indistinguishable, but she sensed a depth in them that she couldn’t explain.

Her second thought, which followed the first with astonishing speed, was that she should not have opened to door to strangers.

He towered above her, her head barely skimming the height of his shoulder even in her low, serviceable heels. There was something about him that seemed almost predatory, despite the polite smile he had on his face.

She closed the door until on a crack remained open between them, lying blatantly to herself that she could close it in time if he tried to force his way inside.

“Can I help you?” she asked through the crack, her fingers tightening on the door until her knuckles whitened.

He turned the charm up, flashing her a brighter smile that had her stomach dancing with heated butterflies even as her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’m your neighbor,” he said softly, in a low voice that went straight through her and made her toes curl inside her shoes. “I just wanted to come over and introduce myself. I saw your lights on. First time since…well since the house has been empty.”

She relaxed a little, fingers on the door softening and the crack between them widening a few inches. “My neighbor?”

“From nearest house?” He leaned over to point down the road in the direction of the light she had seen the night before.

“Oh,” Rey said quietly. She felt stupid, fumbling and clumsy from the nerves and the fear and the too handsome mad standing in her doorway.

“Oh,” he repeated, still standing there with his hands in his jacket pocket.

“Would…Would you like to come in?” she stammered. Leaving standing in the darkness was horribly bad manners.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied smoothly, taking a step forward as she pushed the door open wide enough for him to step across the threshold.

There was something undefinable, a shift in energy or his attitude, as he accepted her invitation, but it passed so quickly that she was not certain she had truly felt it to begin with.

This house really seemed to have a way of making her paranoid.

“I would offer you something to drink, but I don’t really have anything,” she said honestly. Most of the food she had found had been immediately tossed out, and there been nothing at all to be found of wine or other drinks.

“Thank you, but I’m fine,” he said turning to look around the foyer with open curiosity. He had obviously never been inside. “Though if you would like a glass of wine, I would be pleased to have you over for dinner at my house any time.”

She smiled at him. It was actually nice, she realized, to have someone extend her a gesture of kindness. She had been alone for so long after her parents died.

“I appreciate that, but…” she looked down at her dirty dress. She still had bits of cobweb stuck here and there on her skirt. “I think that will have to wait until after I get all of this cleaning done.”

“Well, I don’t mind a bit of dust,” he said, reaching put his hand to brush a smudge off her cheek with his thumb, “but since you seem busy, I can come back another time. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Kylo,” he said simply. 

She swallowed, head buzzing from the simple contact of his hand so unexpectedly on her face. “Ah, yes. Well, I'm Rey. And please do. Come back, I mean. Anytime.”

She hated how awkward she sounded, fumbling over her own thoughts and unable to articulate them effectively.

He smiled silkily. "Thanks for the invitation. I'll be sure to take you up on that. Goodbye...Rey." 

She shivered from the sound of her name on his lips and watched in silence as he turned for the door. He closed it softly behind him, and she let out of huff of breath that she had been holding as she watched him walk away.

Sound and sensation rushed, startling her with the realization that they had dimmed considerably in his presence. Everything else had nearly to ceased to exist when he had walked into the house. Her house, she thought firmly.

She crossed the short distance to the door, locked it firmly, and shook her skirts to get rid of a few more cobwebs before she turned back the staircase. She still had furniture in the upstairs bedrooms that needed polishing and no time for thinking about mysterious, attractive neighbors.

***

Kylo smiled, teeth flashing in the moonlight as he closed the door behind him. She had invited him in with surprisingly little effort on his part. Securing an invitation was usually more difficult. Humans tended to be wary of him and reluctant to let him get too close.

He seen the way her knuckles whitened with her grip on the door, but good manners had won out over self-preservation.

The invitation had been his primary reason for visiting. He wanted to see her more closely, gain access to her private space, but having her see him in the dim light of the foyer had brought unexpected benefits.

Her eyes had widened as she looked at him, running them over his frame from the bottom up, when she had first opened the door.

It had taken so little to get inside her mind, into her senses, because she was already so open and drawn to him. It was a heady sensation, that her attraction was strong enough to drown out so much of her own instinct. Her fear had been fleeting, overcome by curiosity and the beginning of desire.

And as for her…the glimpse he had gotten the previous night had been intriguing, but the full sight of her standing before him had been intoxicating.

She was petite and slim, with small breasts and a gentle flare of hips. Her hair was brown, with only a few wisps visible beneath the gray cloth she had tied around it to keep spiders from crawling into it while she scrubbed the grime off the old house. The simple blue dress she wore had a rag tucked in the left pocket for cleaning.

Nothing about that should have been interesting, beyond the promise of a simple meal if she had been further from home, but he was drawn to her anyway.

There was something in the bright intelligence in her eyes and the easily way she smiled that was appealing to him.

Becoming a vampire had not diminished his urges were women concerned, and he no qualms about playing where he fed, but this woman triggered something in him that was even more primal.

He had yet to figure out exactly what he wanted, possibly needed, from her. But when he did, he was going to take it.


	3. Be with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have crossed oceans of time to find you- Bram Stoker

The moonlight that slanted across her bedroom illuminated her face as she slept. It had taken her a long time to relax, for her breathing to become deep and even and her restless tossing to cease.

He had waited outside the window, listening as she hummed her way through her nightly routine of changing out of her dress, brushing her hair, washing her face.

Her nightly rhythm was familiar now. For three nights he had listened and watched, leaving her window only once to feed and check again before the sun rose that she was still safe in her bed.

He could have rushed in the first night to satisfy his urges and then fled, or the let the consequences fall as they may, but he didn’t want to do anything rash. It would be a pity to live an eternity with regret after acting on foolish impulse.

Tonight, he had crept closer. Sliding his fingers under the window that she had so helpfully loosened for him and lifting it with a soft creak.

She tossed softly and he froze while she settled back into stillness, then he stepped inside. A useful trick since she had been generous enough to extend her invitation so that he could return any time.

The doors she locked would never be enough to keep him out now. She was helpless.

Mortals rarely considered the long-term consequences of their actions, he knew. Images of Snoke flashed across his mind and he shook his head at his own lack of sense from so long ago.

He stood above her, admiring the way the soft light shone on her exposed white skin. The blanket had slipped off down to her waist, revealing a white silk nightdress that was cut low to reveal the tops of her breasts and had only thin straps to cover her shoulders.

It was sensual for a woman who lived alone and had no husband. He had checked already for a ring and he knew she wasn’t married. Maybe she had a lover, he thought, before she came here.

It would be a pity if she did. She would undoubtedly be saddened by the poor man’s demise. Kylo doubted it would take him long to find the poor bastard and even less to arrange for untimely and tragic end.

Still, it couldn’t be helped.

He had made up his mind over the course of the previous nights and had decided to keep her. Any competition or distractions that might tempt her to leave this house would have to be dealt with.

Most immortals would have simply taken her and kept her locked in a cage until her value as entertainment wore thin, but since she was so close it would be a shame to upset her more than necessary. She was accessible enough already.

He trailed a finger over her shoulder, just barely skimming the skin so that she turned in her sleep and shifted toward him. Even in sleep she didn’t display the usual aversion to his touch.

It would make his plans that much easier.

“Wake up,” he whispered, grabbing her chin softly in his hand and turning her face toward him. “Rey, wake up now.”

Her eyes fluttered open, registering surprise and then fear to find him leaning over her bed. She looked up into his eyes and he focused hard on her mind.

“It’s a dream," he whispered, stroking her hair as the thought penetrated deep into her mind, overriding her own senses, “Just a dream. Nothing can hurt you here.”

She relaxed, calming under the influence of his thoughts. He was already in control.

He leaned down, gripping her chin hard in his hand and pressing his lips to hers possessively. A quick nip of her bottom lip was enough to bring the first bright bloom of blood as it dripped down her chin. He smeared it with his thumb, staining her lips crimson. When he ran his tongue over it, nearly groaning with pleasure at the first sweet taste of her, she shuddered beneath him.

“Hmmm, so sweet. And just the beginning of what you’ll give me before tonight is done.” She didn’t question it, just watched him with wide eyes as sat on the side of the bed and traced a finger around the deeply cut neckline of her gown.

“So soft,” he murmured. “Do you wear this for someone else?” He let his eyes roam from the swell of her breast to her face, pausing for a lingering glance at the pulse pounding loudly in her throat.

She frowned, shaking her head as though trying to organize her thoughts. “Someone else?”

“Shhh…” he soothed, pressing his way back inside her mind to ease her rising anxiety. “Another lover? Someone else who’s seen your pretty skin and kissed your pretty lips?”

She shook her head, “No, no one.”

He let his hand slide up from her chest to wrap his fingers lightly around her throat. He could feel the delicate life inside her as her heartbeat beneath his fingers. She was his, and no one else had touched her.

The possessiveness he felt intensified at the thought of being the only one who would ever see her like this. Exposed and vulnerable. So fragile, so delicate.

“Be still, don’t move,” he commanded, standing up to shrug out of his jacket and kick off his shoes. She didn’t move, watching him from beneath lowered lashes as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.

Her voice was soft and dreamy when she spoke, “You look nicer in my dreams than I imagined.”

He lay beside her, wearing nothing but a pair of gray trousers. “Do you? Imagine me when you’re awake?”

She nodded, surprising him by reaching out a tentative hand to run her fingers down his chest. “I can’t stop thinking about you since you came. It’s so lonely here.”

“And what you give, to not be lonely anymore?” He hooked a finger beneath her chin, turning her face away until her neck was exposed and running the tip of his tongue over the point where blood thundered just beneath the skin.

She gasped at the contact, turning pink all the way down to the tops of her breasts. “Anything,” she answered. “I’d do anything.”

“I think you might be telling me the truth,” he replied absently, cupping one small breast in his hand and watching her face as he rubbed her nipple through the thin silk of her nightdress. She moaned and arched her body toward his hand. She had no inhibitions. Her mind was hazy with his influence and clouded with desire.

“Do you want more?” he asked, knowing she would because he had left her no choice.

“Yes,” she gasped, voice rising until it was nearly a whine. He reached for the blanket and tossed it aside, exposing the length of legs to the dim light from the window.

He ran lazy finger up the outside of her thigh until it reached the hem of her nightdress, pushing it up slowly until it pooled at her hip.

“We don’t need this anymore, do we?” he asked languidly.

She shook her head. She was breathing harder, bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Sit up then. Wouldn’t want to ruin something so delicate.”

She lifted her upper body until she was sitting beside him, and he looked up at her, admiring the way her breasts shifted beneath the silk with each shuddering breath.

“Take it off,” he growled and she reached to gather the material in her fingers, lifting until is slid up her figure inch by tantalizing inch until she pulled it over her head and let it drop to the floor.

He let his eyes wander over her, taking in the smooth expanse of her stomach and the soft pink of each nipple, already a hard nub from rubbing against the soft silk of her gown.

She looked at him pensively and her eyes too were roaming as she took in his body. He rolled until he lay on his back, with one hand behind his head, waiting for her to finish her inspection.

“This is my dream?” she asked quietly, eyes darting from his lips to his eyes, seeking conformation.

“Yes,” he answered, pressing the thought into her mind again to ensure the illusion would hold.

“Then I can do anything I want,” she said slowly, “and the real you will never know.” She sighed in satisfaction, and leaned over him, pressing her blood-stained mouth to his and running her tongue over his lips in imitation of what he had to her earlier.

He felt her hands fumble for the buttons of trousers, hesitating when her fingers skimmed the obvious hardness that the fabric couldn’t hide, but pushing ahead anyway and working the buttons open one by one. He rewarded her effort by pushing the thick fabric down over his hips and off his body.

She stared at his naked body with wide eyes, lips parted slightly as she ran her eyes over the length of him.

“Do you know what I am going to do to you with that?” he asked bluntly.

She nodded, gnawing delicately on lip as she reached out and ran one tentative fingertip down his length. He sucked in a breath at her unexpected boldness.

“I’m going to put this inside you. All of it. It’s going to feel like it’s too much, but you are going to take all of it anyway and you are going to like it.” He wanted her to hear it. Wanted to see her eyes darken as she thought about it.

He grabbed her hip easing her down on him until she lay half on him, one leg tucked between his so that his thigh pressed against her core. He fisted his hands in her hair, tugging roughly until she opened her mouth to cry out and then plunging his tongue inside.

She was pliant under his hands, tipping her head back and opening her mouth eagerly to his invasion. She shifted her hips restlessly, grinding herself against him until he could feel the wetness of her on his skin.

He rolled swiftly pinning her beneath him in one swift motion and she mewled in surprise as he nudged her legs apart and settled himself between her thighs.

He kissed her roughly, and she moved beneath him, seeking to be filled, aching to be completed.

“Look at me,” he bit out and her eyes fluttered open. “Have you ever touched yourself? Put your fingers inside?”

She flushed red again but shook her head, looking away from him. “No, I didn’t…women shouldn’t…The church doesn’t condone such things.”

He yanked her head back, exposing her neck and raking his teeth across the tender flesh. “The church doesn’t condone this, either,” he reminded her viciously.

She tipped her head, giving him greater access as he soothed the skin gently with his tongue. “No, but his is only a dream,” she whispered, running her fingers lightly over his back.

“Only a dream,” he whispered in her ear, shifting to reach between them and run his fingers through her wetness, gauging her readiness. She gripped his hips, pressing up against him and shifting to open herself further.

He slid a finger inside, stroking her until she was nearly sobbing from need.

“Do you remember what I told you?” he asked huskily, and she nodded desperately. He leaned down to pull her nipple into his mouth, drawing out the torment as he swirled the tip with his tongue. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer as she shifted her hips to press into his finger.

He pulled his hand away and lifted his head to look at her. She was watching him, lips parted and swollen from his punishing kisses.

He positioned himself at her entrance and locked his eyes on hers as he pushed relentlessly inside. She whimpered, wiggling around him as he thrust slowly into her.

“I can’t,” she whined, shaking her head.

“You can,” he challenged, pushing forward another inch and stretching her around him. “Remember? I told you that you could do it.”

She panted, nodding as he pulled out slightly to rock back in further.

“You’re going to give me everything,” he whispered into her ear as he gave another small push that let him slide in until he was fully inside.

She given so much already, and he only just begun to take.

He pulled out of her, gripping her thigh to lift it, opening her further to let him slide in deeper when he thrust forward.

She moaned, wanton and wanting as he began to work his body inside her.

She was ecstasy around him, warm and wet as he slid in and out of her steady thrusts. She was moving beneath him, urging him to move harder and faster. She wrapped her legs around his waist, fingers digging into his hips.

He pressed into her, shifting until he found the right angle, the perfect spot that had her crying out her pleasure with each movement of their bodies.

He waited until she began to clench around him, body arching as her peak became tantalizingly close, to sink his teeth deep into her neck. She cried out, but the pain of it was swept away on her swelling pleasure.

She came undone beneath him, soaking him with her wetness and tangling her fingers in his hair, as the hot sticky sweetness of her blood ran over his tongue.

He pressed his mouth to her throat, sucking deeply as he began to pound into her in earnest. His fingers bruised as he gripped her, holding her still as he took everything he wanted from her.

Pleasure tore through him as he buried himself inside her one last time, body twitching as he emptied into her. He tore his mouth from her neck, watching with interest as the blood ran down the side of her neck into her hair.

She was looking at him in dazed surprise, a satisfied half smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Was it a good dream?” he asked, licking the last of her blood from his lips.

“Hmmm…I hope I dream it again someday,” she answered, eyes already drifting closed. She looked pale and he realized he had taken more than he intended.

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said. He grabbed her gown, forcing her to sit up enough to slip it over her head before tucking the blanket around her.

He dressed quickly in the dark, turning to look at her again before he slipped out the window. He wanted many things in his unnaturally long life, but none as much as he wanted her to be in it.


	4. Last Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death cannot separate us, for life is born from the other- Dracula Untold

The first thing Rey became aware of as her mind drifted toward awareness was the dream. It flitted through her consciousness, a blur of colors and sounds that left her confused and uncomfortably warm.

The details slid away faster than she could grasp them, leaving her with only a vague impression of pleasure, pain, and her neighbor’s too handsome face.

Even that faded when she opened her eyes. The wooden floor was cold against her feet as she walked to the bathroom mirror, and her body ached with each step she took.

Working in the house must have made her sorer than she realized.

A quick glance in the mirror told her that she looked as poorly as she felt. She was pale and the circles were dark under her eyes.

There was a smear of red on the white skin if her neck, and her hair was wet and sticky.

It was odd, and her neck was painful to the touch, but she wasn’t able to recall an injury. She lifted her head, trying to see the source of blood in the mirror. Wherever it came from, it seemed to have healed, leaving behind only a faint bruise.

She searched her memory, trying to catch the threads that had created her feeling of unease, but it slipped through her mind like smoke.

The more she tried to remember, the harder it became to focus on the question, until her mind simply swept it away. A quick wash removed the traces of her injury, and with it her concerns.

By the time she had dressed and left the bathroom, all that remained were the fragmented impressions of a dream that lingered throughout the day.

She found herself thinking of him as she scrubbed and polished the layers of dirt and grime in the kitchen.

He had been compelling, intriguing even, when he had stood in her foyer, but she had not imagined the way her mind would have taken his image and woven it through her dreams.

She would have been humiliated if anyone could have known her thoughts. She had never had such dreams before about anyone, much less a stranger.

Still, she couldn’t deny the appeal of it. He was a handsome man, and the images that her mind had given her were sinful in their appeal. His face bathed in moonlight, the low and possessive whisper of his voice in her ear, the feel of his muscle bunching beneath the skin…

She nibbled on her lip, the rag in her hand forgotten. The parts of the dream she remembered were intense, and she could almost still feel him moving inside her and the exquisite pleasure he had brought her. Her body ached at the thought and she felt strangely sore and empty.

Hmph. There was enough to worry about with getting the house in decent livable condition, she didn’t need uninvited sexual fantasies distracting her.

She resumed her cleaning with renewed energy, but as evening settled over the house, she began to watch both the door and the clock.

He might come back for another neighborly visit, or if he didn’t return, perhaps the dream might.

Her anticipation faded as the hour on the clock became later, and it was soon too late to be hopeful of visitors.

She crawled into bed, absently rubbing at a spot of blood on her pillow and tried to will herself to sleep.

And, so it went for days, with the dreams becoming more intense, more consuming with each passing evening. She is aware that the restless sleep seems to be taking a toll on her body.

She is sore and tired and paler with each passing morning.

Afternoons often found her sleeping fitfully in a poorly padded and stained downstairs chair, unable to keep her eyes open to scrub even one more inch of her dilapidated inheritance.

But evenings…evenings always led her to him. Soon it seemed as though her days were the dream, soft and muddled and blurry at the edges, and his visits in the night were the only part of life that was real.

She yearned for it, the pleasure and the pain, and both were inevitable as he sank himself into her with rough thrusts as his teeth punctured over skin again and again.

He took from her, the red of her blood staining his lips as the heat of it ran over skin. She gave gladly and without fear, feeling herself more than repaid by his constant presence and the absence of her loneliness.

She always woke to his voice echoing in her dreams, promising her that she would never be alone again.

By the end of the second week Rey had become certain that she was being driven a little insane by the changes in her life and the isolation of the old house.

She had run precariously low on food in the pantry and decided that surely a quick walk into town would help clear her head and allow her to restock her supplies.

The small lane was as bumpy and filled with potholes as she remembered it being the day she arrived, and the sky was overcast and cloudy, but the fresh air made her smile as she watched birds chase each other from branch to branch on the trees above her.

The small village had few options for making purchases, but she was able to gather enough essentials so get her through another week. The owner, a small and rather fastidious looking man in wire rimmed glasses, looked her over in concern. She must still look ill, she realized, though the man said nothing, choosing instead to look away whenever she was within his line of sight.

She bought wine on an impulse, a nice dark red that the store owner assured her was a good year from a small French vineyard. If part of her remembered her mysterious neighbor and thought that now she would have something to offer him if he returned, she ignored it.

The walk back to the house was more far more difficult. The bags she carried were far from heavy, but her body was tired, and it was soon difficult for her to put one foot in front of the other while carrying the extra weight.

Night was falling by the time she saw a light shining through the trees, but her relief was fleeting. It wasn’t her house that was emitting the soft, welcoming glow. It was her neighbor’s.

She stopped at the edge of the lane, setting the bags down for what she thought must have been the hundredth time since she left the village, and pursed her lips.

She hated to intrude upon him, asking a strange man for help by showing up on his doorstep this late in the evening, especially a strange man who had been haunting her dreams and stirring up levels of desire that she had not previously been able to imagine.

But her arms ached and her back hurt and her head was light and tired. She could explain they she hadn’t been feeling well and it would only take him a few minutes to deposit her and her supplies comfortably on her own doorstep.

She sighed, hefted the bags again as her muscles screamed in protest, and began the short trek to his door.

She made it up the stairs, though barely, before the bags slipped from her fingers and landed on the porch with a thump. She raised the knocker and banged with what little energy she had left.

While she waited, she glanced around, surprised and impressed by well kept the old house was.

His steps didn’t sag in the middle, and the wood of his door wasn’t scratched and gouged like hers. A quick glance at what she could see of the exterior revealed a fresh-looking coat of white paint and flowers blooming prettily in their beds.

The door didn’t even creak on its hinges when he opened it, and it had not been for the sudden flood of warm yellow light she might not have even noticed that he had appeared behind her.

“Rey? Are you alright?” His brows were drawn together in confusion and of course she didn’t blame him.

She gave him the brightest smile she could muster and stepped forward into the light. “Yes…I mean, no. Not really. I was hoping that you might be able to help me. I walked into town today for supplies but I’m afraid I haven’t been feeling well lately and I could use a helping hand getting it all back to my house.”

She looked at him sheepishly as he looked over the bags she had dropped on his porch. He frowned as his eyes swept over her and she felt his gaze linger on the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her cheeks.

“Why don’t you come in and rest for a few minutes? I will help you get home, but you look unsteady on your feet. I can make you something to eat? If you’re hungry that is.”

He stepped around her to scoop her purchases and extended an arm invitation, allowing her to step inside first before he set her things down just inside the door and closed it behind them.

Rey’s eyes widened as she stared around his foyer. The house was built very similarly to her own, but the wood was loving cared for and the windows gleamed. His furniture was plush and welcoming and the large rug she was standing on looked to be an antique.

“Oh, its lovely,” she breathed. “This is what I was hoping my grandfather’s house would look like when I arrived.”

He smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, he was not particularly good at caring for things. I learned long ago that old things can still be valuable if they are properly cared for. Would you please have seat? You look like you might faint at any moment.”

Rey didn’t protest when his fingers closed around her arm and led her to the nearest chair. He felt so familiar to her that she found herself forgetting that he was a stranger and not a cherished lover.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “I don’t mean to take up so much of your time.”

“I don’t mind,” he said firmly enough that she was convinced he meant it. “Let me make you something to eat.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but she nodded anyway.

“Good. Stay here and rest while I throw something together for you in the kitchen.”

She was asleep before he even left the room.

When he came back, shaking her awake gently and holding a bowl of hot soup and a spoon, she felt much better.

“How long was I asleep?” She took the bowl, keeping her head down to hide her embarrassment as she asked.

“Not long. Half an hour? Eat that, its chicken soup. It’s supposed to help when you don’t feel well.”

He said it like he was skeptical, and Rey couldn’t resist a giggle at his expense as she brought the first spoonful to her lips.

“Didn’t your mother ever make you chicken soup?” she asked, but the smile died on her lips when he shook his head.

“I didn’t get along well with my family,” he replied.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I was close with my family. You know, before.”

“What happened to them?” The question was blunt, but she found she didn’t mind. He was the first person who had cared enough to ask.

“They died in London, during the bombings.” He received the news without emotion, merely nodding as he sat in the chair across from her, settling in as though they were old friends.

The warmth of the soup and the brief nap were seeping some strength into her and she watched him quizzically.

He looked relaxed, a king in his castle as he sat with his overly large frame in the small chair. She found him no less compelling here than she had when she had first met him, and images of her dreams flashed persistently in her mind.

He wasn’t eating, just watching her with a sort of detached curiosity as she brought the spoon to her lips.

“Is it good? I haven’t cooked in…quite some time. I picked up a few things in town the other day in case you stopped by.”

Her spoon clattered against the side of the bowl. Had been thinking of her while she had been dreaming of him?

“You did? That was nice of you. I appreciate the invitation and I apologize for not coming sooner. I haven’t been feeling…quite like myself,” she said honestly.

He nodded. “I can see that. I’m surprised that you came at all.”

His eyes were dark and direct on hers, so familiar and inviting. The words came out unbidden, the truth pulled from her before she could stop it.

“I wanted to come. I can’t stop thinking about you.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, humiliated and ashamed of the sudden admission and equally unable to fathom where the urge to say it had come from.

He merely waved a dismissive hand. “No need to be ashamed. You have been in my thoughts as well. You have a face that haunts a man’s dreams.”

The words hung in the air between them while they looked at each other across the space between them.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she knew, inexplicably, that if she went to him, he would welcome her.

Her fingers tightened on the arm of the chair and she paused, torn between her pride and the images of his body that played through her mind. Her dreams were blurring with reality and she could almost feel his hands on her skin.

She stood, setting the bowl aside on the small table beside her chair, and he watched with languid eyes. Her gaze shifted to the door, evaluating her choices, before settling on him again.

Two steps brought her to stand before him. He leaned back to look at her but said nothing for the space of several heartbeats. She waited silently until he set a hand on each hip, rubbing his thumbs in intimate circles against her body through the thin fabric of her skirt.

“If you stay, you’ll never leave again.” It was quiet, but firm, and somehow it was something that she already knew. Had he told her in a dream?

His voice echoed in her mind- a dream, a memory. _Come to me. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay…._

“It wasn’t a dream,” she said flatly, watching his face for a reaction that never came.

“Did you really want it to be?” he challenged quietly, already nuzzling her hip with cheek.

The familiar heat was already rising in her blood and she ran her fingers through his hair. She had always known, she realized, but she hadn’t wanted to face the truth of it.

“No,” she confessed. “I didn’t want it to be. Why did you let me think it was?”

He tugged her down to straddle his lap, tipping her head back and letting his finger run over the delicate skin of her neck, pausing on the rapid flutter of her pulse.

“I wasn’t ready, and neither were you,” he said. “You would have feared me and I…wasn’t ready to admit the choice I wanted to make went well beyond anything I have ever offered before.”

He pushed her skirt up, hands running his hands over her thighs. She opened for him as she had always done and pressed his hand against her core.

“I want you with me,” he said quietly, nipping gently at her skin as she arched against him.

“I am with you,” she said, holding to him tightly as he stood, lifting her, and turning toward the stairs.

“You are with me today,” he agreed, “but tomorrow? In a year? A hundred years?” Where will you be?”

“Where will you be?” she countered, “In a hundred years?”

“I will be exactly as I am now, probably somewhere far from here,” he pushed open the first door at the top of the stairs, stepped into a bedroom with a large bed in the center. Like the rest of his furniture it was soft and welcoming as he laid her in it.

“How is that possible?” she asked, but she was rapidly losing her ability to focus as his hands roamed over her, peeling the clothing from her body.

“You already know,” he told her, pressing his lips to her stomach, and he was right. Images of him in the night, her blood on his mouth, flashed through her mind. The shocking pain, the incredible intimacy. Her fingers pressed to her neck, to the scars that had healed so many times in the days since he first came to her, and a shudder ran through her.

She arched and cried out when he sank his teeth into her thigh, running his tongue over the blood that dripped from the wounds.

“So perfect,’ he whispered. “So sweet.” His hands and mouth roved over her, leaving a bloody trail over her legs, her stomach, her breasts. It dripped onto his sheets, smeared on their skin.

She opened for him easily, moaning as he drove into her with one smooth motion.

“You can stay with me. Stay with me,” he urged, staring into her eyes as he pressed into her, claiming her body with each confident thrust.

“How? How can I?” she asked, shaking her head against the impossibility of all it. Everything that had happened was too much to believe, to understand.

She watched as he drew his own wrist to his mouth and bit into the skin, freeing a stream of blood that ran down his chin and poured into her chest.

He twisted his arm, turning it so that he could press his wrist to her mouth. She pressed her lips together, turning her face away and refusing to accept the offering.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, “please.”

It was the please that hooked into her and made her turn her face back to look at him. There was a pleading and desperate loneliness in his eyes that she recognized immediately. It was the same lost feeling that she had in her own soul.

Had she ever felt less alone than she had since he had slid into her dreams? No, not her dreams. Into her life, into her bed.

He hadn’t asked then, but he was begging her now. Begging her to give them both what they craved about anything else.

She opened her mouth and he pressed his wrist to her lips, letting the flow of blood run over her tongue and down her throat.

It was hot and metallic, and she swallowed reflexively to try and rid her mouth of the flavor, but more spilled in to replace it.

It took only a few swallows for the pain to begin, a fire that burned her from the inside out.

“Keep drinking,” he urged, pressing his wrist harder against her mouth, driving into her with deeply as she writhed beneath him. “It will be over soon.”

She panicked, clawing uselessly at this hand, his wrist, his chest her breathing became labored and her heartbeat slowed.

“Look at me!” he snapped, and she drug her eyes to his gaze. He was calm as he pulled his arm away from her mouth, pressing a harsh kiss to her bloodstained lips. “Don’t look away. I’m here. Right here.”

She focused on his eyes, on the pleasure that was building in her from the slide of his body within her, as her breath froze in her chest.

He pressed into her once more, driving them both over the edge in ecstasy, as her heart beat its last.


	5. Epilogue-Together in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You will never be alone again. I will love you till time has lost all meaning- Bram Stoker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the epilogue here is a bit short. I've been taken over by inspiration for a different story but I still wanted to give this one a more finished and satisfying feeling.

Kylo peered down at her, worry creasing his brow. Her eyes were closed, lashes resting on unnaturally pale cheeks. She had no breath, no heartbeat, and her movement had stopped.

He had done everything right, hadn’t he? It had been so long since his own rebirth that the details were faint memories, a blur of pain and greed and Snoke’s cruel blow.

What if he had missed some vital step and she never opened her eyes?

The pain of that thought shocked him to his core. He had never cared much for the company of others, but she had rapidly become the brightly shining center of his existence. He needed her to open her eyes more than he had ever needed anything.

“Rey?” he whispered, rubbing her cheek with his finger. It had been centuries since a prayer had crossed his mind, surely God didn’t listen to the damned, but he made a wordless wish that was the closest he would ever come.

Her lashes fluttered and he felt relief wash over him.

“Kylo?” She looked around the room wildly, running the tip of her tongue over his blood on her lips as she did so. Her eyes widened at the taste and he chuckled.

She would be hungry soon, but for now she needed rest more than she needed food. The change was hard on a body and it would take time for her to adjust. A slight panic was already spreading across her face as she struggled to make sense of the newness of sensations.

“Shhh…it’s alright,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her lips. She relaxed gradually beneath him before she pulled him close, holding on to what must be the only thing that seemed familiar to her in her new life.

He kissed her slowly, pouring as much reassurance as he could- that she was safe and wanted and his. He would always be with her and she would never be alone, never be lonely, in all of the eternity that he had given her.

When he finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, she sighed contentedly and he knew that some of her fears had begun to settle.

“Everything feels different,” she muttered, wiggling and stretching her body beneath him. “I’m not tired and sore anymore.”

He chuckled. “No, and you won’t be ever again. Your body won’t be weak anymore.”

He rolled to the side, letting her sit up and flex her muscles. She stared at her fingers, curling them against her palms.

“I’m even more pale now than I was before,” she observed.

He winced, painfully reminded that he had taken too much from her and far too often. He would have been left with no choice about changing her very soon, even if she hadn’t showed up on his doorstep. She had been slowly dying, bled dry by his desires.

“You _are_ technically dead,” he reminded her. “No blood, no heartbeat.”

She frowned and placed a trembling hand on her own bare chest, eyes widening when no predictable beat thumped against the skin.

She took a deep steadying breath and looked to him for confirmation.

“You’re only breathing out of habit,” he explained. “You can stop, and probably will with time, without harm.”

She squinted at him doubtfully, sucking in a breath to hold and beginning to smile when several minutes passed without discomfort.

Her delight in the simplest of things was endearing.

He reached for her hand, tangling his fingers with hers and bringing her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, letting his lips linger on the coolness of her skin.

She watched him with her lip tucked between her teeth as she nibbled the delicate flesh. She was nervous, he realized, a very human trait still in his newly born mate.

“What do I do now?” she blurted out suddenly.

“Now we do whatever you want,” he said, shrugging casually. “I’ve had a long life already and the only thing I needed was someone to share it with, even if I didn’t realize it until you came along. I am sure there is a lot that you would like to see and like to do.”

“Maybe,” she said, but she was looking around the room at the polished furniture and soft rugs. “I’ve had a rough few years, maybe we could just stay here? At least for a while?”

He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder. “If that’s what you want.” He would have taken her anywhere, but he was as happy to stay here if that’s what she needed.

“Are you always going to be this accommodating?”

He smiled and her eyes darted to the sharp points of his teeth, her tongue flicking reflexively to her own.

“No,” he told her bluntly, “but the first few years of new life can be a difficult transition. We have an eternity, there is no need to rush.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? About an eternity?” She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Why me?”

“You were lonely,” he said carefully, “and I have been, too, for a long time.”

She watched him carefully, her hazel eyes scanning his face as he spoke. “You’re not alone anymore,” she reassured him.

He smiled, “Neither are you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate any time that someone reads my work and I absolutely love it when you guys leave kudos or comments! 
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @Love_andbalance for writing updates and Star Wars content (that is mostly just anger and angst about TROS right now!)


End file.
